


How Altaïr stole a witch

by Sorsa



Series: Bird Cherries AU [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Altair really wants to get into Malik's pants, Alternate Universe - Historical, Apparently cavity inducing, Biird Cherries AU, Feels, Fluff, Growing Up, Iron Age, M/M, Malik feels oppressed, So many cliches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8318161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorsa/pseuds/Sorsa
Summary: A Prequel to "Bird Cherries" but stands alone as well where Altaïr pines really badly after Malik.
They start of as occasional friends in their childhood and end up as not-quite-lovers in their teens. But there's a literal barrier keeping them separated for the most part on top of other circumstances. Altaïr isn't afraid to break any of those problems so he can steal Malik for himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe how much people enjoyed "Bird Cherries" and how much people wanted to see the story of "How Altaïr stole a witch" so here it is then. I was originally going to write a short piece but it turned into this huge thing.
> 
> Huge thanks to anyone who has supported my work and continues to do so. I really appreciate all the feedback I get on my stories and I feel giddy about comments for days afterwards.
> 
> Beta-read as usual by DarthTofu

It had been a stupid bet with Abbas that had prompted Altaïr to start swimming across the bay. It wasn’t until he was halfway to the other side that he had realised how stupid the bet actually was and how Abbas had actually probably played him as the fool. But since he was already there he might just as well keep going.

 

The sun was shining behind him, illuminating the shore and the pier he was heading towards. The water was really warm right below the surface but his feet kicked up the comparatively cold water from deeper down.

 

He kept a steady rhythm between strokes as he swam. It felt like the other side was still so far away and he was not making any progress but when he looked over his shoulder he realised his home shore was so far away and he could barely make out Abbas and Rauf’s forms.

 

He turned his gaze back to his destination. Somebody made his way down to the shore and seemed to notice him, judging from the sudden rush to the pier. It was a child, though much smaller than Altaïr, and he was now furiously waving his arms at him.

 

Altaïr grinned. There was no way anyone expected someone to swim across the bay, and even less for that someone to be seven years old.

 

He was very close to the shore and his limbs were starting to feel heavy. The child at the pier looked at him furiously and attempted to look intimidating but the picture failed because the child could be only described as scraggly.

 

“Are you crazy!?” the child shouted at him as Altaïr finally made it to the shore.

 

The firm ground beneath his feet felt nice despite him feeling slightly cold now that he had gotten out of the water. He waved to the other side of the bay in the hopes Rauf and Abbas would see him.

 

Then he turned around to face the angry kid.

 

“I’m not crazy. I’m Altaïr,” Altaïr said and the angry child rolled his eyes in response.

 

“I’m Malik. Why did you swam across the bay?” Malik asked but it sounded more like an accusation.

 

“Babies like you wouldn’t understand,” Altaïr retorted and made a show of looking down on Malik.

 

“I’m seven! I’m not a baby!” Malik snapped at him.

 

“Why are you so tiny?” he replied.

 

“Why are you an ass?” Malik asked.

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

And their conversation could have kept on going like that endlessly but an adult found them arguing at the pier. As soon as somebody had clothed him in a shirt way too big for him they decided to haul him back to his village.

 

They sat him in a boat with his back facing his own village. Malik was at the pier looking curiously what was going on.

 

In a sudden rush of thoughts Altaïr decided to shout, “Come to the bay when the lake freezes. Let’s go sledding together!”

 

Malik looked at him confused for a while but then nodded and shouted back, “I will!”

 

The boat was now steadily moving away from the shore. He would be back in his village in no time but right now this conversation felt more important than life to Altaïr, so he jumped on his feet despite it rocking the boat dangerously, and despite the adult rowing the boat telling him to sit down.

 

“You promise?!” he shouted yet again.

 

“I promise!” Malik shouted back and it was clear he struggled to get his voice to carry far enough as he broke into coughing fit afterwards.

 

Altaïr sat down and pretended to be completely innocent and harmless as the rower cursed his behaviour.

 

*************************

 

The winter couldn’t come fast enough that year. Usually Altaïr hated the winter because his father left to the north, leaving him alone with other children who were too young to attend the trips and the women. He didn’t have a mother which meant that he spent his winters as a bit of an outsider despite being the chieftain’s son.

 

Abbas and Rauf were there during the days but in the evening they would go spend time with their mothers and siblings. Altaïr didn’t have any siblings and whoever was left in charge fed him and sheltered him but it was no substitute for having family.

 

So when the lake froze over he ran to the ice with his sled. He didn’t see Malik just yet but since it was still early and the sun had barely risen over the horizon he decided he would wait. Somewhere in his gut he already thought Malik would not show up but he tried not to think about it.

 

A fox slunk over the ice. It was a shaggy thing and possibly mangy too. Altaïr paid only passing interest to the animal.

 

It was completely quiet and for the first time in his life Altaïr truly looked at the lake and tried to comprehend how massive it was. He felt tiny and just a little bit chilly, though it wasn’t for lack of clothing.

 

Then he noticed Malik’s form appear between the frosted trees on his side of the bay. Malik didn’t have a sled with him but Altaïr supposed he could share his.

 

Malik walked impossibly slowly towards Altaïr so Altaïr decided he would walk up to him. Despite the insane amount of clothing Malik was wearing it was still clear as a day that he was still just as leaf thin as he had been in the summer.

 

Altaïr didn’t care. He was overjoyed that Malik had come to meet him. Malik would be his friend alone and he wouldn’t have to share him with anyone.

 

“Hi,” Altaïr greeted.

 

“I’m sorry I don’t have a sled. They didn’t even want to let me go but I insisted I had to because I promised I would,” Malik broke apologetically.

 

“Why didn’t they want you to go?” Altaïr asked because the explanation made very little sense to him.

 

“They were afraid I would break my bones because I’m so... _small_ ,” Malik spat the last part.

 

“You are tiny,” Altaïr said and shrugged. Malik looked visibly hurt at his words.

 

“It doesn’t mean anything though,” Altaïr continued.

 

They headed out to a nearby shore where Altaïr knew was a good slope for sledding. Malik clearly had not ridden a sled before so he had to help him to get started but Malik picked up fast and soon they were laughing while dashing down the hill on the sled.

 

It was fun like he had never had. He didn’t even notice the passing of the time until the sun was already setting and it was getting hard to see.

 

Malik was clearly more tired than he was so he pulled Malik back to his own village on the sled. He was fairly sure his friend fell asleep at least few times on the way and he was starting to feel tired himself as well so he didn’t comment on it.

 

As he made it to the shore he shook Malik slightly so he would wake up. Malik yawned and sounded groggy as he promised to come to meet him again the next day.

 

*********************

The next couple of weeks or so they spent in a routine of coming to the ice as soon as the sun rose and getting back home at the sunset. Altaïr felt like it was the best thing since learning how to ride a horse.

 

Malik was fun to be around even if he sometimes asked him weird questions or was oblivious of obvious things. Altaïr could deal with all that since Malik was his friend and made his days exciting.

 

Then one day Malik did not turn up at the normal time.

 

Altaïr sat on the sled way after the sun had risen. Usually Malik was there before him so it was doubly weird.

 

He didn’t want to accept that Malik wasn’t coming so he stubbornly sat on the sled and watched at the pier on Malik’s side of the bay as if he could summon Malik there by doing so. It may have worked somewhat because somebody did appear at the bay.

 

It wasn’t Malik though.

 

But it resembled Malik in several ways, except that the child wasn’t nearly as scraggly and had blue eyes whereas Malik’s were deep brown. Altaïr was fairly sure the child was also younger than Malik was though he couldn’t really tell how he knew it because the size difference was minimal if it even existed.

 

“Malik can’t come because he’s sick,” the child told him.

 

“Who are you? And what do you mean he’s sick? He was here with me just yesterday,” Altaïr questioned.

 

“I’m Kadar. I’m Malik’s brother,” Kadar said and then shrugged before continuing, “Malik is always sick. He is suppose to become the chieftain but the whole village thinks he will die before he turns ten. He can’t really become a chieftain if he’s dead, can he? Or can a spirit lead people? And what about father? If father is around can you become a chieftain then?” Kadar kept rambling on and Altaïr tuned him out.

 

He waved Kadar goodbye and left back home disappointed in something he could not even name.

 

*******************

 

It wouldn’t be until the next summer when he tagged along with his father to Malik’s village that he saw Malik once more. He found Malik at the witch’s house furiously trying to learn to play guqin.

 

The instrument was obviously too big for Malik but it didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest. In fact Malik was so concentrated on his effort he didn’t notice Altaïr at first.

 

“Hi! What are you doing?” Altaïr greeted and saw Malik almost jump in surprise.

 

“I’m learning how to play. What does it look like?” Malik asked in irritation.

 

“But why?” Altaïr prodded.

 

“I need to learn because I’m going to become a witch,” Malik replied and set the guqin down carefully.

 

“I will become a chieftain and then I’m going to raid all the neighbouring villages,” Altaïr proclaimed.

 

“Even this village? You would raze down my house?” Malik asked.

 

Altaïr scratched his head as he tried to think of a solution. He didn’t want to hurt Malik but he didn’t want to adjust his vision all that much either.

 

“You will come and live with me. We will raid villages together,” Altaïr offered and Malik laughed at his proposal.

 

The witch returned to the house. He was an old man with a long white beard and looked a bit scary. The village was somehow a better village than his own because of this old man living in there. Altaïr’s own village didn’t have witch.

 

The witch shooed them both away and told them to go play elsewhere. They played until Altaïr’s father came to pick him up but they promised to see each other in the winter as soon as the lake froze over.

 

*************************

 

The years went on like that for a really long time. They would meet up as soon as the lake froze over and they would only stop meeting when the ice was too thin to carry them any longer.

 

And when Altaïr finally was big enough to row a boat he would go meet Malik whenever possible, even during the summer. Malik never left his village during the summers for some reason and when Altaïr tried to query about it he would say that they didn’t allow it.

 

Altaïr never asked who the mysterious ‘they’ were but he had his suspicions.

 

Then suddenly when they were both sixteen and Altaïr was about to leave for his first trip to the north Malik closed the gap in their heights in the span of one summer. Altaïr had gone to say goodbye to Malik and to tell him that he was leaving to north for the winter and Malik should not wait for him at the ice.

 

Malik was still as thin as ever but he was tall. It was the first time Altaïr could look at his friend without having to bow down if he wanted to be on the same level. It was utterly confusing to him and he didn’t know how to react at all.

 

Malik had noticed the situation as well and seemed to be entirely too smug about it.

 

But to redeem the situation Malik’s voice kept breaking when he sang a spell to aid Altaïr’s trip so that Altaïr burst into laughter whenever it happened. Though he did not tell him how much he enjoyed Malik’s singing when his voice stayed steady.

 

That knowledge he would treasure for himself and think about in the dark cold winter days that were up ahead.

 

***********************

 

Altaïr came back from the north with his father and other men. He was no longer a child but a man. He took his newly found position very seriously and wanted to be on everything that happened in the village.

 

It consumed most of his time but he didn’t forget Malik. So when the hay season was finally over he rowed across the bay.

 

There was certain kind of excitement in the air as he couldn’t wait to brag about his achievements in the north. Everybody had been so surprised how well he had performed and he was sure Malik would be as well.

 

It was a hot day – the kind of he would spend swimming with Rauf and Abbas when they were children. The lake water was warm yet pleasantly cool after the scorching heat.

 

He rowed steadily towards the boat shore occasionally looking over his shoulder to see where he was going. Somebody was bathing at the shore but he paid no attention to it.

 

He made it to the shore and was tying his boat to a tree when somebody greeted him.

 

“Altaïr!” the voice greeted him and he turned to look at the person greeting him.

 

It was the person who had been bathing earlier. It took Altaïr two seconds to understand who he was actually seeing right in front of him.

 

It was Malik who had somehow transformed from a lanky teen into a fit man since the last time he had seen him. Altaïr stared at Malik’s sun kissed skin and defined upper body where water droplets occasionally trickled down by the curves of his body.

 

It was like something had switched on inside Altaïr’s brain which he had not even known existed and suddenly he was just consumed by the need to touch Malik. And not just touch but touch him everywhere. But he didn’t touch Malik instead he just stood there with his mouth agape staring at Malik who was slowly forming a frown.

 

“Did the winter spent in the north turn you daft?” Malik asked.

 

“No,” he managed but he felt like all the blood in his head was leaving towards his dick which definitely was turning him less than intelligent.

 

“Good. Then you can come up to the village and tell me how your trip was,” Malik said and pulled a linen shirt over his form, hiding his body from Altaïr’s sight. Altaïr felt disappointed by the lack of view and he still didn’t quite get what was going on with himself.

 

When Malik was done dressing up they headed up from the shore into the village. Altaïr trailed behind Malik like an obedient puppy while staring at Malik’s ass and yet at the same time trying to tear his eyes away.

 

They sat down on a patch of grass near the witch’s house.

 

“The old man has been sick lately. I need to take care of him but it’s entirely possible I need to take over completely soon,” Malik said and Altaïr thought he could detect a hint of regret in Malik’s voice.

 

“But it’s a great honour and you get to prove your worth,” Altaïr responded.

 

“It is. I just wish I could have remained the apprentice just a little bit longer. I feel like there’s still so much for me to learn,” Malik said and fiddled with a grass stalk.

 

“I know you’ll do just fine,” Altaïr said.

 

“Enough about that. How was the winter? Did you kill any bears or catch any foxes?” Malik asked in an abrupt change of topic. Altaïr didn’t question Malik but explained about his winter in the north and how he had exceeded all the expectations.

 

Malik laughed when Altaïr explained how Abbas had been bitten by a weasel and how Rauf had gotten a black eye from a tree branch. He loved to watch Malik’s changes in expression as he told the countless stories of his endeavours.

 

“I wish I could join for those trips too,” Malik said wistfully.

 

“But you can. You are a man too,” Altaïr answered and the idea of Malik joining him for a winter spent in the north excited him in so many ways.

 

“I can’t and you know it,” Malik answered.

 

Altaïr didn’t reply instead they remained in silence for an extended period of time.

 

“Could you sing for me before I leave?” he asked and broke the silence.

 

Malik looked at him questioningly.

 

“You have not cared for my singing before,” Malik replied.

 

“Just forget about it,” Altaïr said with sudden embarrassment which he could not even point the source of.

 

Malik however just chuckled and got up. Altaïr looked at him and tried to understand what was going on.

 

“I’ll get my guqin and then I’ll sing,” Malik said in a reply to Altaïr’s silent question.

 

When Malik had gotten the instrument he sat back down next to Altaïr and started singing. It was a weird thing too because suddenly Altaïr felt like he had been caught in the place and he couldn’t see nor hear anything but Malik. He wondered if Malik had cast a spell on him because it was no doubt in his power.

 

But if it was because of a spell he didn’t care because of all the butterflies in his stomach made him feel light-headed and content. He didn’t want anything else so much as Malik at that moment and he could not tear his gaze away from Malik’s lips which looked so kissable as they formed the words to the song.

 

In the end he made himself lean on Malik in an experiment as to how Malik would react when he invaded his personal space. Malik didn’t seem to mind and in fact Altaïr could have sworn he even accommodated him to fit better against himself.

 

In the end he had to leave though he was reluctant to do so. Malik walked him to the shore where Altaïr hopped into his dugout and rowed away.

 

He had the most horrifying problem in his trousers which he dealt with immediately after he was away from hearing distance. It was all very confusing and he just couldn’t stop thinking about Malik’s bare body.

 

He made it to the shore where Rauf and Abbas were idly fishing at the pier. He tied the boat to a tree and jumped off.

 

He joined his friends briefly.

 

“Have you ever met someone you wanted to just fuck right there and then?” he asked while throwing rocks into the water.

 

“You met a girl in the witch village?” Abbas asked and pulled his line out of water to inspect the hook and the feed.

 

“No. I’m just curious,” Altaïr tried pretending oblivious and threw yet another stone.

 

“Stop throwing rocks. You’ll scare the fish,” Abbas said and threw his line back into the water.

 

“I think the witch’s apprentice has finally caught Altaïr in a spell. I’m not surprised though. I hear he’s quite good looking these days,” Rauf commented casually.

 

Altaïr felt his cheeks burn from how close to home Rauf was. He didn’t even know why it was embarrassing and he was in a way guilty for bringing the subject up.

 

“That’s never going to work,” Abbas said and moved his line to a slightly different place.

 

“How so?” Altaïr said before he could reign his tongue.

 

“I knew Altaïr had the hots for the witch!” Rauf declared victoriously.

 

“Shut up! I have no such thing!” Altaïr defended himself.

 

“Shut your mouth both of you! There’s no way to get any fish like this!” Abbas growled.

 

“I don’t care about your stupid fish anyway!” Altaïr retorted and got up.

 

He marched back to the village proper.

 

That night he couldn’t stop thinking about Malik for even one moment. It was when he realised that he had probably fallen in love for the first time in his life.

 

*************************************

 

Malik looked on bitterly as the men from the village left for the winter. Kadar was among those men for the first time and it reminded him of everything he had missed in his life and would miss in the future as well.

 

He tried to think positively but it was very hard to do. He wasn’t much of anything but an object to the people around him. Even now that he was in position of commanding respect the villagers treated him as an object of empowerment.

 

His entire childhood he had been an object of endless pity and he was thought as a liability. Everybody thought he was going to die sooner or later so he was kept indoors away from the world. Altaïr had shown him that there were a lot of fun things to explore out there and then he had been picked up by the old witch.

 

He loved learning about the spirits and the spells. It was exciting to learn how to read the subtle signs in the world and pour all of his concentration into learning how to play guqin.

 

He had not thought it would mean he would end up as another kind of object. He wanted to explore the world and do all the same things other people did.

 

Altaïr had gone to the north for the first time and Malik had to spent the entire winter alone with the old man and Kadar. When Altaïr had come back and told him the stories of what had happened during his travels Malik had felt a pang of jealousy because he knew he would never experience any of it.

 

He had asked to be brought along but had been refused and then the old man had gotten sick. There was no way he could have left the old man who had been more of a father to him than his own father had ever been alone in a situation like that. The old man had seen beyond Malik’s sickness as a child and treated him as a person.

 

The other person who had not cared in the least bit that Malik was a sickly child was Altaïr. Altaïr treated him as an equal and that was what Malik wanted the most. He wanted to be equal to everyone and free to make his own decisions.

 

He wasn’t even allowed to leave the village and the first time he had done so was when the old man had died. The body had been buried to the bird cherry thicket in the village across the bay because it ensured the old man could connect to the spirit world after his death.

 

The bird cherries’ roots broke into the other world and the white flowers signified every soul connected to them. It was probably the most sacred place in the area and made that particular village important.

 

It was why his father was especially worried about Malik being interested in Altaïr because Altaïr was to become the chieftain of that village in the future, and if Malik every happened to cross the bay and move to that village the power would shift. Malik was the only witch in the area now and the reason why his father commanded a lot of power.

 

He didn’t want to be used as a pawn but he had not much choice. If he tried getting away he would be dragged back in an instant. He was trapped.

 

He turned around and returned to to the witch’s house which was now his house. Inside there was all kinds of things ranging from dried plants hanging from the ceiling to antlers decorating the walls. Most of it was meaningless things and placed there to give outsiders a mysterious image.

 

The old man had taught him that one part of being a witch was to keep up a certain image. People expected witches to be strange and even maybe a little bit scary. The best way to deliver to those expectations was to have all kinds of junk hanging around.

 

The dog woke up and came to greet him in excitement. It was still a puppy but Malik had plans to teach it to track prey because he was not going to sit idly for the entire winter.

 

He picked up his bow and arrows and headed out.

 

He would practice every day until he had mastered the weapon. He would teach the dog to track prey and he could then hunt small prey the same as everyone.

 

If his father thought he could bind him in a yet another way by not teaching him to hunt or wield a weapon he had another think coming. This would be a small rebellion but it would be entirely his own.

 

It was unfair that Kadar had been taught how to fight as soon as he could hold a stick in his hands while Malik had been shoved into the women’s house and told not to do anything because he might break his bones. He had asked countless times to be taught but always refused.

 

He stopped by a tree on which he had painted a target circle with ochre earlier. He took distance of roughly twenty steps from the tree.

 

Then he pulled back his bow several times to warm it up before placing an arrow on the string. Then he pulled back the bowstring along with the arrow and released.

 

The bowstring slapped him painfully on the arm and the arrow missed its target. He dropped the bow in surprise as a reflex to the pain.

 

As he held his bruised arm and gritted his teeth not to cry he thought of only of not giving up. He would need vambraces not to hurt himself in the future but for now he would just have to endure.

 

So he did and continued his practice despite the pain.

 

***************************

 

Eventually the spring came and the men returned back to the village. Kadar told Malik enthusiastically how he had been hunting a bear with the other men.

 

Malik listened to Kadar’s tales with a mixture of wonder and jealousy. It apparently showed in his face because Kadar stopped in mid sentence and asked him how his winter was.

 

Malik blinked for a few times because of the abrupt change of topic.

 

“My winter?” he asked as he suddenly felt like an idiot.

 

“Yes, brother. You must have been up to something while we were gone,” Kadar prodded.

 

Malik rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the bruises on his arm. He had not had any luck getting a vambrace during the entire winter so he had to just keep on practising without one.

 

“You’ve picked up archery?” Kadar asked as anyone who had any skill with weapons would know the kinds of bruises Malik had on his arm.

 

“Yes. I practised every day,” Malik confirmed.

 

“You need a vambrace and badly,” Kadar said.

 

“I know,” Malik replied.

 

“Why are you practising archery?” Kadar asked and looked utterly confused.

 

Malik sighed as he didn’t expect Kadar to understand his reasons.

 

“I want to do something I chose myself. Father doesn’t allow me to leave the village but he can’t dictate my entire life,” Malik answered.

 

Kadar looked even more baffled. Apparently the thought had never even crossed his mind.

 

“I thought you were happy with you life. You are well respected as a witch and shown your competence already,” Kadar said after remaining silent for a while.

 

“I am happy but then again I’m not. I can’t even leave to see Altaïr at my own will,” Malik replied and tried to keep the hurt out of his voice.

 

“What is it with Altaïr that makes people want to talk about him? The amount of times father got antsy about Altaïr’s existence during the winter was staggering. He considers Altaïr to be his worst rival and Altaïr’s not even a chieftain yet,” Kadar complained.

 

“And what do you consider him to be then?” Malik asked since he was curious of the politics that were mostly out of his reach.

 

“I think he just really wants to get into my big brother’s pants,” Kadar answered mischievously.

 

“No he doesn’t! We are just friends!” he defended himself even though he knew they were both attracted to each other but just had to cross the invisible barrier.

 

“Yes because it’s every day when we see a chieftain-to-be running after a witch. You sit side by side like star crossed lovers while you sing and I tell you, you don’t sing that well that anybody would want to listen to that for hours,” Kadar teased and got up in anticipation of Malik chasing him.

 

Malik did then chase Kadar for revenge for his words. But Malik knew there was a whole lot of truth to those words underlining the teasing.

 

*******************

 

A few weeks later Altaïr appeared in the village. Malik was trying to determine if the crops could be planted or not when Altaïr greeted him.

 

Malik had a long stick buried into the ground for the purpose of measuring how well the earth had defrosted. In the autumn the land had frozen over before it had snowed which meant that the frost was deeper than normal. Planting crops on frosted ground wouldn’t work.

 

He was delighted to see Altaïr after a half a year apart. Altaïr was as handsome as ever and had a new scar that run across his lips.

 

“Hi,” Malik greeted back and closed the distance between them.

 

“Where did you get this?” Malik asked and reached to touch Altaïr’s scar. Altaïr leaned into his touch, making Malik’s heart skip a beat.

 

“Does it matter?” Altaïr asked and ceased Malik’s hand in his own.

 

“No,” Malik answered and Altaïr pulled him against himself.

 

Their first kiss was clumsy, full of teeth, and the occasional bumping of noses but it elevated Malik into a feeling he didn’t know even existed in this world. Altaïr squeezed Malik as if he was trying to crawl into his skin and Altaïr felt hot against him which made him want to feel even more of Altaïr against himself.

 

Eventually they found a comfortable rhythm in which to explore each other’s bodies and take breaths between kisses. Altaïr felt like he was made out of sinewy muscles everywhere and his shoulders were sharp but the best thing was how well he fit against Malik. He didn’t have to do anything but tilt his head to the side an they could kiss easily and when he tilted his head backwards Altaïr’s lips found their way to his neck and shoulders.

 

If he pushed Altaïr just a little bit he could nib at his earlobes and smell his hair which smelled of the lake and smoke. His knees felt like pudding but Altaïr was strong and didn’t let him fall.

 

Then just as Altaïr’s hands were making their way into his trousers Malik snapped back into reality.

 

“I’m sorry. I just can’t,” he apologised as he really wouldn’t have minded and was in fact stone hard.

 

“Why not?” Altaïr asked clearly frustrated but withdrew anyway.

 

“I feel like if we cross this barrier there’s no turning back,” Malik explained hastily.

 

“I don’t want to turn back. I want you,” Altaïr argued and Malik felt like it was indeed turning into an argument.

 

“I don’t want to be your occasional lover,” Malik responded.

 

“You know you mean more than that to me,” Altaïr said.

 

“I can’t be more than that while the bay separates us,” Malik countered.

 

“Then leave this place!” Altaïr growled.

 

All of Malik’s thoughts disappeared for a second. He realised how much he truly wanted to leave the village. Altaïr represented true freedom and equality to him which was denied from him since birth.

 

“If you come with me I will let you do as you please. I will take you to the north in the winter and let you wander around as much as you please. I won’t stop you from leaving the village either because you deserve to be happy just as everyone else,” Altaïr said and at that moment Malik could see the kind of leader Altaïr would become one day.

 

“I can’t and you can’t promise those things either,” Malik said in a barely audible voice.

 

Altaïr then forcefully pulled him into an embrace. It took a while for Malik to return the gesture but as he did he didn’t want to let go even though he knew eventually Altaïr would have to return.

 

“I will find a way. I promise,” Altaïr whispered into his ear and how much Malik wanted to believe those words.

 

**********************

 

That day Altaïr returned back to his village frustrated more than ever. He sought out his father who was sharpening the ploughs with other older men.

 

“Father, I need you to help me with something,” he started.

 

His father set aside the blade of the plough and turned his attention to him. Then he gestured for Altaïr to continue.

 

“I want to bring Malik over to our village,” Altaïr said firmly.

 

His father raised his eyebrow in question.

 

“The witch from the witch village?” his father asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“No,” his father said and was about to return back to the work.

 

“Why not?” Altaïr asked because he was not ready to drop the subject that easily.

 

“Faheem Al-Sayf will never let the witch go and it would spark a war between us and them. It’s not worth it. Find someone else to fuck,” his father told him.

 

“This is not about fucking. This is something entirely different. He wants to leave that village!” Altaïr argued.

 

“Then what is it about? You come back from the witch village and demand these unreasonable things. I am not about to start a war because a boy can’t keep his dick in his trousers!”

 

Altaïr felt furious at his father’s words.

 

“You are a spineless coward!” he growled and turned to leave.

 

“But I am the chieftain and you are not,” his father said to just rub salt to his wounds so he would know how powerless he was in the situation.

 

However one day the situation would not be like this and then he would do as he pleased.

 

*********************

 

Altaïr watched as Malik tried on the vambrace he had gotten made for him. It wasn’t anything fancy – just a leather vambrace to prevent Malik getting further injured from shooting a bow. Malik had of course argued against accepting his gift but Altaïr was more persistent in the matter and had finally won the argument.

 

He himself now carried a sword which he had spent all of his earnings from the months spent in the north. The older people in the village thought he was wasting his resources for a such thing while the younger generation was jealous of his fortune. It was one of the perks of being the next in line for the title of the chieftain.

 

He was the only one in his village with a sword. The only other sword to be found in anywhere in the area was in Malik’s village and in the possession of Faheem Al-Sayf who had supposedly inherited the thing from his ancestors who held the sword in such value they named their clan after it.

 

Altaïr knew he was challenging Al-Sayf clan by having a sword of his own. He didn’t just know it but revelled in the knowledge he irked Faheem Al-Sayf even more than he already did.

 

He turned his attention back to Malik who seemed to be pleased with the fit.

 

Malik picked up his bow and drew an arrow from his quiver which he placed on the bow string. Then he pulled back the bowstring and after a quick aiming released. The arrow hit in the mark spotlessly and Altaïr was left staring with his mouth hanging wide open.

 

For him Malik was the perfection and the display of his archery skills just fuelled Altaïr’s desire to get his hands on Malik. He was sure that if he couldn’t find a way for him to have Malik all for himself he would go mad.

 

“Thank you. I’m sorry I can’t repay you in any way,” Malik said pulling Altaïr out of his trance.

 

“You could kiss me and then sing to me,” he suggested because while Malik wasn’t ready to go all the way through with him he would more than gladly kiss him.

 

“I’ll first sing you. Then I will send you off with a kiss,” Malik said and while Altaïr rather would have wanted his kiss immediately he decided he would be patient because Malik was quick to change his mind about things.

 

Altaïr just nodded at Malik and Malik went off to get his guqin from the witch’s house. Then they sat on the patch of grass comfortably.

 

As Altaïr left that autumn to the north he would remember Malik’s singing and body warmth against himself whenever he was feeling down or homesick. He wished he could share his loneliness with Malik and wondered if Malik was missing him at all.

 

********************

 

The spring that year brought along big changes. Altaïr returned from the north as the youngest ever chieftain. His father had been gored to death by an elk, killing the man almost instantly.

 

In his return he had to fight for his place as the rightful leader. The older men weren’t sold on the idea of Altaïr leading them and would question his judgement in every turn. But he was popular among the younger generation as he brought a wave of excitement and prospect of glory with him.

 

He wanted to raid the reindeer people and some of the other villages around to make their own village more prosperous. But more than any of that he wanted to finally bring Malik over the bay because his father wasn’t there to deny him any longer.

 

There was no turning back as he delivered his speech of how he was going to steal the witch and bring even more prosperity to the village. The younger men were thrilled at the idea and supported him without a question.

 

“You want to declare a war with the witch village over the witch? Your father would never have accepted this!” shouted the man called Ahmad Sofian who had been an avid supporter of his father.

 

Altaïr gave him a murderous glare while the crowd in the cramped longhouse waited for his reply.

 

“Then to get rid of the package left by my father I denounce him. I am now the Son of None and the doings of the older generations have no impact on me. I am interested in the future and I want the future to be the best I can have for my people,” he delivered and while he could see the benefits of having a witch around he was more invested in the matter on a personal level.

 

“Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad that’s a bold name for a bold man. I support you because in the next world there will be no glory for cowards,” Rauf rose to support him and pulled a reluctant Abbas along with him.

 

And Altaïr was glad he could count on Rauf to be on his side and by having Rauf on his side he would have the rest too. The people vowed their support for him one by one.

 

He didn’t need their support though because he would have gone through with his plan anyway but it was better to have the people with him rather than against them. All he needed to do to put his plan into action.

 

The people dispersed slowly from the long house as soon as he was done speaking. Only Rauf and Abbas lingered behind. Altaïr observed a woman starting a fire for cooking but didn’t really pay much attention to it as his thoughts were filled up with the stealing of the witch.

 

“So you are really going to do it,” Rauf commented after a while of silence.

 

“I think this is utter madness,” Abbas jabbed and Altaïr couldn’t help but think that of course Abbas would say that since his father was against the whole thing. But still Abbas was supporting him and that spoke volumes.

 

“I think it’s a high time for this village to have its own witch so we don’t have to always cross the bay when we need help,” Altaïr responded.

 

Rauf smiled and crossed his arms knowingly.

 

“And it probably doesn’t hurt that our esteemed chieftain is head over heels in love with the said witch,” Rauf teased.

 

“Between us three, I don’t really care if he’s a witch or not but I just want him here. He is respected by the people but the way Faheem Al-Sayf has confined him to the village is wrong,” Altaïr confided.

 

“I don’t really get it but I guess there have been more stupid reasons to fight about,” Abbas relented.

 

“It’s about love, Abbas. It’s like in that song where the great warrior sage gets so infatuated by this woman that he has to have her no matter the cost,” Rauf said and smiled.

 

“In that song the woman ends up drowning herself because she can’t stand the kind of forceful love the warrior sage tries to force on her. I hope this doesn’t end up like that,” Abbas said.

 

“It won’t,” Altaïr concluded.

 

***********************

 

It was only a week to the midsummer celebration when Altaïr put his plan into action. In his mind he had the vision of celebrating the midsummer together for the first time with Malik which is why he thought it was critical to act before it.

 

The nights were light and the sun coloured the sky in hues of red and orange that night. He was accompanied by Rauf and Abbas to the other side of the bay in case they met up with resistance though his plan was to just quietly sneak into the village and then out with Malik, but there was no harm in being careful.

 

They pulled into the familiar boat shore with their dugouts. They didn’t tie the boats up as they had to be able to leave as quickly as possible. He whispered to his companions to stay and wait for his return.

 

Then he moved to walk up to the village. He didn’t walk right into the village proper because he didn’t want to risk being seen by anyone so he chose a detour into the witch’s house. The witch’s house stood apart from the rest of the village and very unfortunately it was as far away from the shore as possible.

 

He tried his best to blend with the available cover and move within shadows. He stepped over twigs and branches laying on the ground and hoped he wouldn’t be noticed by any dog. He felt nervous energy coursing through his veins as he proceeded towards his destination.

 

Somehow he made it to the house without being noticed. He slipped inside the house and almost stumbled on Malik’s dog who yelped in surprise, waking Malik up.

 

Malik looked utterly confused and clearly had not yet properly woken up yet. The dog retreated behind Malik’s legs and eyed Altaïr suspiciously from there.

 

“Altaïr?” Malik asked with a sleepy voice.

 

“Yes. I’m going to get you out. Put on your clothes and take what you need,” Altaïr replied.

 

Malik rubbed his eyes in a clear attempt to wake up and then shook his head.

 

“What do you mean?” Malik asked because he apparently still had not yet woken up.

 

“You wanted to get away from here. I’m giving you the chance,” Altaïr replied and laid his hand on Malik’s bare shoulder. It seemed to do the trick as he could see Malik’s gaze focus and the sharp frown appear on his features.

 

“What about your father? Doesn’t he oppose this?” Malik asked.

 

“Father is dead and I denounced him. I am now Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad,” Altaïr replied.

 

The amazed and possibly relieved expression on Malik had was worth more than thousand words. It looked as if somebody had lifted shackles from his shoulders.

 

“Truly?” Malik queried.

 

“Truly,” Altaïr confirmed.

 

Malik jumped on him and embraced him the way only a man who is desperate and relieved at the same time could. It was like Malik had attached himself to a lifeline from the way his nails dug painfully into Altaïr’s back.

 

“We need to go,” Altaïr said even though he would have rather kept holding Malik. But he knew there would be plenty of chances in the future to embrace Malik and nothing would stand in their way.

 

“Yes. Of course,” Malik said almost absent-mindedly and started pulling on his clothes.

 

Altaïr watched as Malik picked up his bow and arrows, his guqin, and handed him a small cauldron which weighed much more than its size implicated. The dog seemed to be excited about the prospect of nightly adventure.

 

“Is this really all you need?” Altaïr asked as Malik started to make his way outside.

 

“It is. Most of the things here are junk anyway,” Malik said and smiled briefly. Altaïr felt like his heart might melt from the sight but held himself together.

 

“Let’s go then. I’ve got men waiting at the shore,” he instructed.

 

They did their best to sneak around the village but the dog wasn’t quite operating in discretion as it jumped around eagerly. It scared a few birds from their trees and started to bark at them. The dog did quiet down when Malik told it to keep it down.

 

“I taught him to scare the birds so I could shoot them more easily. He’s not doing it to be badly behaved,” Malik explained in a hushed voice.

 

“Just make sure it doesn’t wake up the entire village,” Altaïr replied.

 

After what seemed like an eternity they were back on the path leading to the shore. Altaïr feared for them to be exposed the entire time and he could see how tense Malik was as well. Somehow the possible danger was also very thrilling and he couldn’t help but smirk.

 

Suddenly Malik stopped and Altaïr nearly bumped into him. There was someone blocking their path. Altaïr instinctively pulled Malik behind himself as he readied to attack whoever was on their way.

 

He recognised the person as Kadar Al-Sayf. Kadar was taller and broader than either of them despite being a couple of years younger. Altaïr sized the man up to look for weak spots but against all odds Kadar just smiled, nodded, and stepped aside.

 

Altaïr grabbed Malik’s hand and started towards their destination once more.

 

As they passed Kadar, Kadar said to them, “I think it was about time for this to happen.”

 

Malik stopped and released Altaïr’s hold on him.

 

“Thank you, brother,” Malik whispered and hugged his oversized little brother for a brief while.

 

“I didn’t see nothing,” Kadar said and waved them goodbye as he turned towards the village.

 

They hurried to the shore where Abbas and Rauf helped to get the few items they had with them to the boats. The dog had never been on a boat and had to be carried into one.

 

When Altaïr finally pushed the dugout away from the shore he sighed in relief. He watched Malik who was on the opposing side of the boat being painted in the hues of the midnight sun and thought that a great new chapter in his life was about to start.

 

They both knew they weren’t in the clear yet. They would have to get to the village and then deal with the inevitable aftermath of Faheem Al-Sayf learning about Malik’s disappearance but for that Altaïr was prepared to go to war if need be.

 

They didn’t utter any words during the boat trip across the bay as if afraid to break some unspoken spell. The sounds of splashing water and oars scratching against rowlocks filled the air.

 

Altaïr stared intently over Malik to see any movement in the village but he couldn’t see any. The dog whined miserably from time to time as if it knew something big was happening.

 

Then they made it to the boat shore of Altaïr’s village where they tied up the boats and picked up the few things they had brought along. The dog darted off to somewhere as soon as its paws touched solid ground.

 

Malik stood at the shore looking dumbfounded. Altaïr laid his hand between Malik’s shoulder blades and pointed towards the village proper.

 

“I can’t believe I made it,” Malik said after their prolonged silence.

 

“I can. Come on, let’s go to the long house,” Altaïr said and prompted Malik to move.

 

As they walked through the sleeping village Altaïr observed how Malik’s expression changed from worried into angry and into excited as he was obviously starting to realise the situation. He wanted to just somehow reach and wipe all the worries from Malik’s mind but he knew he wasn’t able to do so.

 

Altaïr opened the door to the long house and signed for Malik to enter.

 

“Welcome home, Malik,” Altaïr said as Malik walked over the threshold and it truly felt like the missing piece in his life was found.

 

They were too giddy to actually sleep that night despite their best efforts which ended up in cuddling and making out sessions. There was also the underlining tension of sudden retaliation preventing them from relaxing.

 

*********************

 

The next day as soon as the village woke up the people started appearing to ask questions and to just see Malik. They were completely taken by the idea of having their own witch in the village just as Altaïr had predicted.

 

Malik had obviously hard time coping with so many people suddenly wanting to talk to him but he stayed patient and in between people snapped at Altaïr in frustration. Altaïr just took it as he knew it was probably very taxing for Malik to deal with the change of environment and all the new people.

 

But all of it was necessary as it was only a matter of time before an angry delegation from the village across the bay would appear on their shore. He would have to spent as much time as possible convincing people they desperately needed a witch in the village.

 

As the evening came as many people as possible cramped themselves in the long house. Malik had promised to sing spells to protect the villagers and the village.

 

As Altaïr listened to Malik’s singing he felt immense pride that Malik the witch had chosen him over everyone else. He pictured himself as a powerful chieftain who was aided by a witch and he couldn’t see how he could ever fail in anything he set himself to do.

 

That night he fell asleep while holding Malik against himself and he saw dreams of glory and conquer.

 

***********************

 

Malik woke up feeling too warm and to the feeling of someone trying to squeeze the air out of him. It took him a while to realise he was in fact staring at the soot darkened wall of a long house and he wasn’t attacked by some strange spirit but being cuddled by Altaïr who was making his best impression of an octopus.

 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling to be woken to – just an unfamiliar one as physical closeness with anyone had not been much of a thing for him in the past. The closest thing to cuddling he had ever had was when during the coldest nights of the winter his dog curled up against him for warmth.

 

He didn’t dare to get up for the fear of waking up Altaïr and for the fear of what he might have to face if he stepped outside the long house. He could hear other people who slept in the house snoring and sniffling in their sleep.

 

He had been completely overwhelmed by all the new people the previous day but he had to commend Altaïr’s way of handling his people. Somehow he had never quite put much thought to Altaïr’s qualities as a leader or inspiration for other people.

 

He had never been really involved in any politics because that had been a world he had been denied of. The tribal politics were formed during the long winters spent outside of the village when the men sat huddled inside their shelters and had nothing else to do except form alliances and plan for the future.

 

The women and the children left behind to the village had their own politics too but Malik had never been part of that structure either. The women constructed power dynamics among each other and a lot of it depended on the status of their husbands in the community.

 

He had existed as the witch who was a neutral party in the politics. He was respected but didn’t exactly hold any fixed social status. He felt like that had suddenly changed when he followed Altaïr into this village, and while he was excited to be involved just like everyone else, he also dreaded what the future would bring.

 

Altaïr stirred behind him, mumbling something incoherent against Malik’s neck. Malik turned around to face Altaïr. They were quite literally breathing the same air and Altaïr immediately took advantage of the situation by pulling Malik into a brief kiss.

 

“Good morning,” Altaïr greeted him and it was clear he wasn’t fully ready to wake up just quite yet as he closed his eyes once again.

 

“Morning,” Malik greeted back.

 

Altaïr yawned and Malik couldn’t help but yawn as well.

 

“Why are you awake already? Not even one of the servants are,” Altaïr asked and opened his eyes slightly.

 

“I am not used to any of this,” Malik answered and motioned around himself with his hand.

 

“I don’t get it,” Altaïr replied.

 

“The size of this house or to having someone so close to me. It makes me restless,” Malik explained.

 

“You will. I’m sure of it,” Altaïr said and shrugged.

 

Malik frowned and sat up. Altaïr whined pitifully as he lost most of their body contact.

 

“To be honest I think it would be best to have a small house for myself and my equipment,” Malik said.

 

“There’s plenty of room here for all those things,” Altaïr said as he also got up.

 

They started putting on clothes since sleep wasn’t going to happen any longer.

 

“I will involuntarily attract spirits and they might end up attacking the long house and the village around it. There’s a reason why the witch’s house stands apart from the rest of the village in my village,” Malik explained while trying to figure out which way his shirt was going.

 

“Aren’t the spirits supposed to protect the witches?” Altaïr asked.

 

“They are but it’s a delicate balance. None of the spirits are evil but the consequences might be unexpected when there are several of them in a small area. They might react to the people around them because not everyone holds much respect for them,” Malik answered.

 

Malik reached for his guqin that was hanging from the wall. He slid his fingers along the smooth wooden surface of it.

 

“The songs are one of the ways for me to attune with the spirits but not the only one. All the people are more or less attuned with the spirits. The people less attuned often anger the spirits. It is why you really don’t want me hovering around the village more than necessary when I’m doing my things,” Malik continued.

 

They were both done putting on clothes. Altaïr smirked and gestured towards the door.

 

“Then I suppose we need to go looking for a good place for an additional house if we want it to be built before the winter,” Altaïr said as if it wasn’t an issue at all.

 

They went outside where the sun was already high up in the sky yet the village still slept. A cow mooed somewhere and a cat stalked from one house to another. The village was deceptively similar to his own and he felt homesick all of a sudden and he couldn’t understand why.

 

He had wanted to leave for the longest of times yet now he found a voice inside himself telling him to return back. His thoughts were cut off when Altaïr grabbed his hand, pulling him close to each other.

 

They walked around the perimeter of the village where a wooden fence surrounded the village. The purpose of the fence was to keep their animals inside and unwanted animals outside. The fields spread outside the village all around and only ended where the swamp started to the south or where the lake blocked the way.

 

It was at the shore of the lake inside the bird cherry thicket when somebody ran to them in a hurry. The man had a thick beard and Malik felt like he had seen him before somewhere.

 

“Altaïr, they have come for the witch!” the man explained in a slightly panicked tone.

 

“Gather the men. We will meet them at the shore,” Altaïr commanded calmly.

 

The man turned around and returned to the village.

 

Malik felt like he had been frozen in place. Somehow he had hoped his father would have just let him go but now that he thought about it properly he should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

 

There was also the very real prospect of fighting breaking out between the villages. He didn’t want any blood to be spilled because of him. If it came to that he would just quietly go back to prevent anyone getting hurt.

 

He didn’t want to go back now that he had had a taste of true freedom. He felt so anxious he wanted to just throw up.

 

“I will not let them take you. I will fight for you,” Altaïr tried to assure him.

 

“I don’t need you to defend me. I can stand up for myself,” Malik snapped and the words surprised even himself as he wasn’t quite sure what his own intention behind them even was.

 

“I know you can. We are after all kin,” Altaïr replied and before Malik could fully comprehend the words he had turned towards the village proper.

 

At the village proper were a small crowd of men who all bore arms. Malik took a look at Altaïr who grinned like a maniac. Did the prospect of fight excite him?

 

Then they marched to the shore with Altaïr leading them and sure enough there were several boats just about to pull ashore. Malik saw his father, his brother, and a crowd that consisted mostly of young men from the village.

 

He felt sick in his gut but refused to show any of it outwards. He just frowned and tried to make himself feel angry. Being angry was something he was familiar and brought certain kind of comfort to him.

 

“Safety and peace, Faheem Al-Sayf,” Altaïr greeted formally as it was custom between chieftains.

 

“Safety and peace, Altaïr son of Umar,” Malik’s father returned the greeting.

 

“It is son of None these days,” Altaïr corrected.

 

The tension was so thick it could be cut through with a knife as everyone expected something horrible to happen any moment. Altaïr was still grinning like a crazy person while Malik’s father looked sour beyond belief.

 

“Fine, son of None, I’ve come for the witch,” Faheem said and pointed at Malik while not leaving his gaze from Altaïr.

 

And it was the final straw for Malik as his father didn’t even deem it worthy to actually discuss the situation with him but addressed Altaïr instead. He snapped.

 

“No. I am not leaving as I am a free man but you never cared for that, did you?”

 

Finally he had his father’s attention.

 

“This is a discussion between chieftains and your opinion has no place in it,” his father growled.

 

Malik was about to protest when Altaïr surprised him with his words.

 

“In this you are wrong. Malik is equal to me and whatever he says are also my words. You heard what he said.”

 

Malik looked at Altaïr with his mouth wide open as he felt dazed at the words. He wasn’t sure if Altaïr actually understood the gravity of his sayings but he would have to reprimand him for that later on. If there was any later on to be had.

 

“Then you leave me no other choice but to attack you. You don’t just come into my village and steal our things,” Faheem Al-Sayf threatened.

 

Altaïr’s men started shouting insults the very moment Malik’s father had said the words. It was clear as a day that the young men were thirsty for a battle and were eager to jump at the possibility of one.

 

Altaïr’s stance spoke of open challenge and intimidation. Malik was once again about to step up because he didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of him but suddenly Kadar stepped between the two opposing groups.

 

Kadar gave Malik a wink and seemed completely relaxed despite the explosive situation. Malik tried to understand what was going on as Kadar signed for people to quiet down.

 

“I can’t support you on this, father. It’s a stupid move to fight over the witch moving elsewhere. Our village isn’t dependent on the presence of a witch and we are more clever than barbarically try and drag someone into our village against their will,” Kadar spoke this his father.

 

“What’s going on?” Malik asked in a whisper from Altaïr.

 

“Your brother is being smarter than I thought him to be. He is using the moment to seize power,” Altaïr explained to him in a low voice.

 

“We are going home,” Kadar said and stepped towards the boats which they had arrived in and sure enough all the men followed him.

 

In the end physically unharmed yet completely defeated Faheem Al-Sayf followed his son and men, and left the shore. Altaïr’s men also dispersed from the shore, leaving Malik and Altaïr alone to watch the boats distancing away to the bay.

 

“What was any of that?” Malik finally snapped as he felt the anger return once more.

 

“Any of what?” Altaïr asked while obviously pretending not to understand.

 

“Kadar seizing power and you declaring me to be as much in power as you are,” Malik retorted and waved his arms around in frustration.

 

“Your brother had obviously planned all of that ahead and if I had to make a prediction he will be the chieftain long before your father is dead. He also wanted to signal to me that he had no intentions of warring with me and would rather have an alliance instead of feud. He is planning for the future. He will probably be a better leader than your father ever was, though not as good as I am,” Altaïr explained smugly.

 

Malik crossed his arms to signal his frustration of not understanding the politics.

 

“And what comes to me declaring you as my equal that wasn’t a joke. I am completely serious about it. I didn’t spent all these years chasing you and going through all this trouble if I wanted just a lover for myself or a witch for the village. I want more than that. I want us to be –”

 

“Bloodbrothers?” Malik finished the sentence as Altaïr’s intention dawned on him.

 

“Yes,” Altaïr confirmed and nodded.

 

Malik pulled Altaïr into a kiss which was filled up with the promises of the future and raw desire. Their clothes were thrown in hasty piles all around them as all the inhibitions they may have had were released like a massive explosion leaving uncontrollable lust behind.

 

And when they finally fucked it was like the dance of two cranes on a field where both of them actively tried to impress the other. In that moment they weren’t a witch and a chieftain but just two men who loved each other.

 

In the immediate aftermath Malik felt content and lazy despite the numerous pine needles that had stuck all around his skin. He hummed a song and combed through Altaïr’s hair as the man was just an impossible cuddler. Not that he really minded.

 

His father had accused Altaïr of stealing the witch and at that moment Malik had thought it was a ridiculous idea since he had voluntarily left. It was more like he had run away.

 

But as he thought about the situation more he came to the conclusion that his father may have had a point as Altaïr had definitely stole his heart and by doing so stolen him completely. And that was how Altaïr stole the witch.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am thinking of writing one more story for this AU since it seems like something people enjoy.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading. I love to hear from all the lovely people around here :)


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